


Hands

by yaboyrskeezy



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaboyrskeezy/pseuds/yaboyrskeezy
Summary: geralt likes jaskier’s hands
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 115





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> a VERY short little fic that plopped outta my brain like a primordial ooze cause BOY THEM BARD HANDS THO—

Geralt first noticed Jaskier’s hands when he was fastening buttons on his doublet. A mundane task to be sure but the deftness in them, the way in which he performed the task had him staring for much longer than he meant to, or should have.

After that, he looked at them all the time. Any chance he got when Jaskier wasn’t looking back at him, he was focused on the bard’s hands. The way Jaskier talked with them, chewed his index fingernail to the quick when he was particularly deep in thought, the way they held a quill. 

His favorite though, was when he played. He liked to make the bard think he didn’t care, and he honestly didn’t, but watching Jaskier’s fingers contort themselves in the most elegant way possible to produce music kept him riveted. 

It was when Jaskier broke his finger that he actually got to hold the object on his affection. The bard had been cradling the hand to his chest when Geralt made his way to him, still sprawled out on the ground. He took the hand in his own, pushing down the desire to truly admire it until he’d finished fixing it. 

“I warned you about jumping in where you aren’t needed.” He said through his teeth, angry that Jaskier had hurt himself, and even more angry that he hadn’t been fast enough to prevent it. Now Jaskier wouldn’t be able to play for at least a few weeks, costing them coin and Geralt’s bathing routine. 

“I did help, had I not created a diversion things would have gone a lot worse, honestly you should be thanking me.” Jaskier told him, hissing in pain and trying to pull away when Geralt straightened the finger all the way. He splinted it, giving Jaskier a warning look. 

“You can’t play.” He said as Jaskier’s gaze went in the direction of where they’d put their belongings, a sad look in his eyes. Geralt allowed himself a few more seconds of holding the bard’s hand, noting how it wasn’t as unmarred as he thought it would be, and it wasn’t as dainty as he made them look the way he flicked them around when telling stories or going off on one of his tangents. 

He’d felt them sure enough—Jaskier claimed having someone else wash your hair was the best feeling in the world, so he would often wash Geralt’s hair. He’d use his blunt, callused fingertips to knead the tension out of his muscles, but to hold the hands that touched him, to be the one doing the touching, was different. The backs of them were soft, while the palms were a bit rougher, most likely a result of traveling with Geralt for so long. 

“Geralt, are you alright?” Jaskier asked, though his voice sounded further away when he lifted the hand to his mouth, it was out of his control at that point. He pressed his lips to the bard’s palm, hearing the small, sharp intake of breath before he finally met his eyes. 

“I’m sorry you got hurt.” He apologized, words muffled by the hand, and Jaskier stared at him incredulously before clearing his throat. 

“That’s—that’s alright, it, it was my fault. You warned me, although now I think it was worth it. How long have you wanted to do that for?” Jaskier asked him, and now he had a little knowing, playful look in his eye that made Geralt sorry he’d done anything in the first place.

“Long enough.” He answered, finding no sense in lying now, and Jaskier pulled his hand away, offering the uninjured one. 

“This one’s jealous, you have to treat them equally.” Geralt bit back a smile before he kissed the opposite palm in the same way but this time Jaskier’s hand grasped at the witcher’s jaw, pulling him forward and pressing their lips together. The kiss was chaste, quick and had Geralt searching for more when Jaskier pulled away. 

“Was your mouth jealous too?” He asked, watching the bard stand up and brush himself off with his good hand. 

“No, I just always wanted to do that. I figured you did something you always wanted to do, why couldn’t I?” Geralt stood as well, shaking his head and unable to argue with that sound logic. 

“Now, I’m exhausted please lay out my bedroll, seeing as how I broke my finger helping you.” Jaskier said, pushing Geralt in the direction of where they’d left their things.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading my trash y’all are great ❤️


End file.
